


Class 2 Vapors

by Omorka



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Gen, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:25:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omorka/pseuds/Omorka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's no fainting flower, but when you work for the Ghostbusters, "an attack of the vapors" can be pretty serious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Class 2 Vapors

**Author's Note:**

> A hint of angst/whump/hurt-comfort, along with just a touch of Everyone Loves Janine.

Peter couldn’t decide which was worse, watching Janine’s features screwed up in pain or seeing the horrible blankness on Egon’s face. At least Ray’s hyperactive worry was something he could react to. “Ray, I’m serious, cut it out,” he hissed as Stantz bounced into the room holding an ice pack.

Ray handed the ice pack to Egon; he blinked, then carefully nestled the shapeless bag against Janine’s forehead. Ray stepped back. “I’m sorry, Peter,” he whispered, “but I feel like I have to do _something_.”

“It’s not your fault, Ray.” Peter swallowed; technically, if you really wanted to assign blame, the Class Two that had gotten into the firehouse had been stalking him. No one could have predicted that once it got here, it would have gone for Janine - or that its ectoplasm would have such horrific effects - but still . . . .

“No one’s fault,” Janine corrected, her voice barely audible. “Not yours, either, Dr. V.”

Peter’s fingers found the back of her hand, trembling and feverish. “I know, Janine.” He glanced sidelong at Egon. “The Big Guy’ll figure it out any minute.” But Egon just closed his eyes, almost flinching.

“Too bad,” Janine gasped, trying to smile through the agony. “It’s a gorgeous day outside.”

Winston glanced out the window, then paused. “Hey,” he said softly, “wasn’t that thing dodging from shadow to shadow on its way here? Maybe -” He reached up and yanked the blinds open.

Janine flinched, hissing, then inhaled sharply. “I - I think that might be helping a bit.”

Egon jumped up. “Of course,” he shouted, “it’s a miasma spirit! The two things it can’t stand are fresh air and sunlight!”

Peter grinned. “Then let’s get the best secretary in Manhattan to the roof,” he said, scooping her over his shoulder.


End file.
